


wild wolves

by mak (cold_blue_eyes)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 01:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13916694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_blue_eyes/pseuds/mak
Summary: Stiles and Derek have been circling around each other for a time now, but their friendship is too important for both of them to ruin it.Outside forces end up pushing them against each other, throwing truths at them that they both wanted to ignore.Wild wolves come to Beacon Hills.





	wild wolves

Anything over seventy-five miles per hour and Roscoe started to shake like a leaf. Stiles hit ninety on a road in New Mexico, and that was a new high for his anxiety levels, although he loved every minute of it. 

After a week in Texas honing his runic skills with a Norwegian mage, Stiles just wanted to get home and relax, and thank the heavens Beacon Hills had calmed down after the supernatural breakout back when Stiles was in high school.

With the windows rolled down he stuck one arm out to catch the breeze. He’d applied sunscreen earlier but Stiles still felt the burn on his skin. It was a good reminder to practice the healing spell he learned the last time he went to Mexico. 

Leaving FBI training halfway had been a tough decision, but ever since then Stiles has been to a bunch of different places to enhance his skills, and now he could say he was on the way to become a mix of pack emissary, mage, fortune teller and healer. Stiles learned so much in these last years sometimes his brain seemed to be filled to the brim with knowledge, but he always found another nook to cram in some new stuff.

It was lonely work, though. Sometimes Stiles wished to have someone to go back home to - someone other than his father to greet him with open arms. And Stiles loved the man, but he still had to sleep alone most nights. 

There was his right hand, though. And sometimes his left. It seemed versatile enough for him.

They weren’t as hairy as he liked them. Or rough. But Stiles made do, anyway.

-

He got home late on Thursday night while the Sheriff was still in the station finishing up his shift. Stiles didn’t let his father know the exact time he’d be arriving, so when parked the Jeep in front of his house and saw no lights turned on, Stiles asked for a pizza even before he stepped inside. The delivery came minutes before the cruiser parked in front of the garage door.

“Stiles?” The Sheriff asked right after the lock clicked open. There was something almost frantic to his tone.

“In the kitchen.With food.” Stiles spied his Dad appearing on the door to the living room, and the tired smile on his face was enough to raise Stiles’ spirits.

“Everything alright?” The Sheriff went to Stiles and their arms found their way around each other in an embrace.

“Yeah.”

“Training went okay?”

“Sure,” Stiles answered when they separated. It was clear for the Sheriff that Stiles was tired because he didn't have many words in him tonight. But then, Stiles controlled his tongue after college. He found out a bunch of ways to do that, and he wasn’t the only one that should take the credit for that discovery.

While he talked about some minor events of his day the Sheriff helped Stiles. He set two seats facing each other on the island since the dinner table had a bunch of papers that they hadn’t bothered cleaning it up since last July. And now they were in September.

When they sat down, Stiles opened the pizza box. The Sheriff brought the beers.

“I talked to Scott yesterday,” said the Sheriff after he demolished most of his first slice. “He mentioned this new pack that wanted advice on dealing with pixies, at least that’s what I think they’re called-”

“Probably.”

“-and Derek went out there to help them because Scott had to give Deaton a hand on the clinic.”

Stiles hummed. There was some disappointment making its way into his chest at the mention of Derek being away. 

“Where was it?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, just outside of Sacramento. It’s the Villegas Pack. Derek came back this morning,” mentioned the Sheriff, as if he knew exactly what Stiles wanted to know. 

Not surprisingly, his chest felt lighter at that. He wished he didn’t feel like that every now and again, but it was what it was.

Stiles nodded. “And did he help them solve the pixie problem?”

“I don’t know, didn’t talk to him. I just saw him driving by the station when I got in this morning.” The Sheriff raised a shoulder as he looked at Stiles but then went back to his food. He certainly was enjoying the cheat night on their diet.

“And everything alright with the wards?” Stiles asked the question for a change of subject. 

Just like every time he made that question, the Sheriff gave him the same answer. “They’re fine.” 

Stiles would feel if something caused a disturbance in his magic, but the confirmation that everyone was okay made him feel better all the same.

Leading a supernatural life brought new instincts to Stiles, and as the years passed everyone from the pack evolved in different ways. Lydia became more harsh and biting, but also compassionate. Scott lost his wide-eyed innocence, even though he was still a benevolent hero. Derek went from rage-fueled to smart, mature and protective. And Stiles evolved from his scattered-around state to a somewhat, more collected sense of perception, using his abilities and putting his life on the line for everyone else.

But then, that wasn’t so different from the past.

“You’re going to open the store tomorrow?” Asked the Sheriff when he pushed his plate away. Stiles had eaten and was only nursing his beer. It’s already gotten warm.

“I think so.” Stiles nodded. “I’ve brought some herbs that I have to categorize and put away, and if I’m not wrong there are some pickups from the packs around.”

“You didn’t lose much strength this time, then?” There was some worry in that question, but then the Sheriff had seen Stiles at his most drained state already. The two of them had been communicating openly since the Sheriff learned about werewolves, and that was only more of a reason for the man to be worried about Stiles.

“Not really. Janis, the mage, was very self-conscious about magic usage, and we only went over runes. They don’t nearly need as much energy as any emissary work, especially when I have to  _ will  _ things to happen.” It was veiled in his words the criticism towards the field he ended up pursuing, especially considering the way the emissaries themselves passed down their knowledge. Or not.

“Then that’s good. You almost fell down the stairs last time you came home.”

“Almost,” pointed out Stiles, but the Sheriff only aimed a trained eyebrow at him.

They snorted to each other quietly. The Sheriff shook his head, Stiles had a warm grin on his face.

In silence, they got up from the table and left the dishes in the sink, before moving to sit in front of the TV for some Stilinski bonding time.

-

In the morning Stiles woke up before his dad, still not completely rested but feeling better. There was something about being away from home that always left him on edge, even when he went to Virginia. It’s like he’d incorporated werewolf instincts and when he was away from his den, Stiles couldn’t concentrate.

That morning he did his whole routine around the house and left fresh coffee in the pot and warm pancakes in the microwave, waiting for the Sheriff to wake up for his day. Stiles wanted to get a headstart on all the work he’d need to catch up on after weeks away from here.

His store was located in the old center of the town, away from the newer stores in the warehouse district. The building was from the 1920s, still in good condition, and the store was a street walkup, away from the general public because Stiles mostly attended to supernatural business. 

At first, no one really believed this was going to take up, not even Stiles himself, but surprisingly enough, after all the networking the pack did, Stiles now made enough to keep the store afloat and still managed to have a good life. It certainly was nothing compared to what he would have done in the FBI, but this was his life now.

This town, the pack, his family and the ‘Blue Magic’.

No one from the pack ever asked Stiles why he chose that name for his store, believe it or not. And if some of them asked, Stiles just made up a story right then. He would never admit to the real reason why the store was called that. He just thought it was a pretty name, after all. 

Just like the color of someone’s eyes.

Somehow, it wasn’t surprising that the one with the pretty eyes was the first to walk through the door that morning, even before Stiles was open to the public.

Stiles was packing dried herbs in different containers to put on the back shelves when he heard the bell above the door jingling. Involuntarily, Stiles tensed as he turned his head, but suddenly his body relaxed completely when Derek’s smile greeted him.

“Hey,” he said, getting up the floor and wiping his hands on his jeans. 

“Hi.” Derek quietly closed the door and moved to Stiles’ direction, as Stiles rounded the counter.

When they were one in front of the other Derek reached for Stiles’s shoulder with a hand and brought them together, wrapping his arms around Stiles, who immediately felt grounded. It was a power Derek had on him, and long ago Stiles figured the man was some kind of anchor to him, but never delved too much into that.

“You smell tired,” whispered Derek close to Stiles’ ear. It was enough to make him shiver, and squirm around in that embrace until Derek released him. The man had a grin on his face.

“I am tired. Just got in last night, that’s why I didn’t go to the house to see you.” Stiles motioned with his head for Derek to approach the counter so Stiles could keep working as they spoke.

Of course, Derek stayed on the other side, mindful that some of these herbs were not harmless to him.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come here. I know you get in late, sometimes.”

“But the last time we spoke to each other was last week,” Stiles told him like that was explanation enough.

“Yes, it was.” Derek leaned with his arms on the top of the counter, eyeing Stiles as he crouched down on the floor to keep working.

For a moment they didn’t say a thing, content enough to soak in each other’s presence. Stiles was sure Derek liked this too, because usually he saw the man at ease when he was around Stiles.

“Dad told me you went to visit a pack in Sacramento,” Stiles mentioned, prompting Derek to talk. He was invested in Derek’s life, maybe more than he should be allowed to. A part of him was always expecting the moment Derek would find somewhere to go and leave this behind, even though he’d renovated the Hale house and said more than once he’d never leave Beacon Hills.

Some part of Stiles knew that.

“Well, the Villegas encountered a small colony of pixies in their land, and they didn’t know what to do about them. You know from experience that some groups react well to basic human interaction and some conversation, while others-” Derek shook his head, not finishing his sentence.

Stiles had the scars to prove that not all of those tiny creatures were completely harmless. He only nodded to Derek.

“And well, they are a young pack, I don’t remember well about the old members from the time Mom was the Alpha here, but they were eager to learn. And they are a pack that resembles ours,” he commented.

“Really?” Stiles asked. “Because our pack is way different than any other.”

“That we are. But they have some more unusual members, other than wolves.”

Stiles hummed but didn’t ask anything when Derek opted out of divulging more information. More than anyone else they knew how important it was to keep their cards close to the chest, especially if you were part of a modest pack. Now the Beacon Hills pack was one of the most important of the West Coast, certainly not the largest, but the one with most connections and alliances.

“It’s good that everything was alright. When Dad told me you went away I almost thought I was going to come here and not have any company.”

Derek huffed out a laugh, and Stiles looked up to see how bright his eyes were.

“What? You don’t think I miss you?” Stiles asked.

“I know you miss me, Stiles.”

It was hard to hide anything from the man, and Stiles looked down to his herbs again, trying to at least hide any emotion that displayed on his face. He closed another bottle with dried rosemary and put aside to shelve it later, then took a deep breath as he straightened his spine.

Derek was silent as he eyed the knots on the wood of the counter.

“I think I’m going to go,” said Derek a moment later. 

“Work?”

Derek nodded. “I just got a big order of table and chairs for this eatery that’s going to open in the warehouse district, so there’s a lot of things to do.”

“Wow, you didn’t tell me that, Derek. That’s awesome.” Stiles was glad the man had found his calling, and of course, the furniture he made was something special - Stiles had gotten a desk for the back of the store after he broke the last one in a small explosion. 

Now he took care of it because he wanted that table to last longer than the last one.

“Things are picking up now. And I barely got the visit from the owner before I went to Sacramento. But we’ll see each other this week, so you can come and see the blueprints, right?”

There was almost an inquiry into those words, and Stiles thought for a moment if they had planned anything together. Thankfully he remembered it quickly.

“Ah, yes. I’ve been working on the new wards for the south section of the preserve.” Stiles got up from the floor and went to one of the shelves behind him to get the wooden talismans. After they were carved Stiles had to let them rest for a time to heal, and then they could be taken to their place of protection.

Stiles showed them to Derek.

“They’re stronger than the ones I made before, so we might see into changing all the other ones in the future.”

Derek got close to the shelf and eyed them, but didn’t touch. He had past experience in touching things that weren’t good for him, so now he usually waited until Stiles let him do that. However, when he approached Stiles, Derek ended up standing close enough for Stiles to smell his natural scent. Of course, Derek and Stiles rarely had any kind of tactile boundary anymore, but it didn’t mean Stiles wasn’t affected by Derek.

He managed to tamp down the hormones and reactions of his body by tapping into his magic, which was a bit of a draining process, but Stiles was already too used to that. The moment Derek sensed that Stiles’ magic scent spread around the vicinity he put some distance between them, and didn’t look at Stiles, trying to maintain the idea that everything was just fine.

“I think I’m going now,” muttered Derek, his eyes wandering around until they found Stiles’ again. 

“Yeah. I call you when they’re ready?” Stiles offered.

“You can come to the house when they’re done. I’m not planning on going out this week.”

Stiles confirmed with his head. Derek almost stepped close to him again, as if he wanted to hug Stiles, but instead, he just sent him an awkward wave. Every now and then things got a little bit strained, but a couple of days later they would be already in their normal place.

At least Stiles had some more time to exercise his control before he had to see Derek.

-

The wards were ready before the weekend, but Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to the Hale house on Thursday, or if he should find something else to do before he drove out to the Preserve. 

Of course, instead of going there Stiles found meaningless tasks to give himself to do, and at least his entire stock got perfectly organized and the store was clean as new, but he couldn’t help but feel dumb and stupid for ignoring Derek.

Scott agreed with that, of course.

“You guys are made for each other, you know?” Scott said as he analyzed the bottles of purple powder Stiles had. They were a bunch of types of wolfsbane, some of them that were indicated exclusively for werewolf consumption, for them to use at their own discretion.

“I don’t know about that.” Stiles thudded his head against the wall.

“What don’t you know about that? Derek’s the first person you call when you come back to town after some time away. Or the first person you visit.” Stiles was about to protest but then he saw Scott’s face and the knowing smile on his lips. He thought Scott would be jealous or mad at him, but Stiles knew he would never feel that way. 

And Stiles also knew that Scott cared about all of them, but especially those that were the closest to him.

“I know. It’s just-” Stiles sighed, shaking his head. He turned around and leaned on the shelf, taking care not to press too much against his potions. “I just feel like things are getting harder and harder to control when I'm around him. And I do feel like Derek has some feelings for me, I just don’t know if they’ll ever be the same I feel about him.”

“And why don’t you ask him about that?” Scott questioned Stiles, who first answer was a derisive snort.

“Do you know me? Unless it’s a matter of life and death I’d much rather ignore the problem until it goes away.”

“I know. But that’s already a change from ignoring all problems,” Scott offered. “And that’s only when things don’t matter that much to you, Stiles. When they do, you take action.”

“Unless I fear losing something,” he admitted.

“I don’t think you’d ever lose Derek, though. At least I don’t think I’d ever see him leaving you just because you guys found out ‘some’ feelings exist between the two of you.”

Stiles sighed again because he didn’t have a good answer to that. His father and Scott and Lydia, even past relationships had said that Stiles had something with Derek or at least something with someone that was more important than whatever relationship he had in life. 

“I like where we are now,” Stiles tried to defend himself.

“But wasn’t you a moment ago saying that things were getting more complicated?”

“Yeah.” Stiles conceded with a gesture of his hand. 

“So, think about that, okay?” Scott looked at him like he begged for a promise. And Stiles could only nod to him, even though he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep it.

Perhaps Stiles should believe in Scott, and his father and Lydia. The three of them together were a lot smarter than all of Stiles, that’s for sure. 

But for them, Derek didn’t matter as much as he did to Stiles. And they certainly had no idea how much.

-

When Saturday rolled around Stiles packed a bag with the wards, and some food before setting out to the Preserve. He didn’t want to find Derek at the house, opting to meet at a more neutral location, although the Preserve was mostly Hale land anyway. 

He drove for more than forty minutes before he reached the end of the road towards the southern border. Derek would hear the Jeep driving by the house, and then he’d follow Stiles’ scent.

Sometimes Stiles let himself think of the reason why the man was so attuned to him, why he could find Stiles pretty much anywhere, and what that really meant, but it didn’t do Stiles any good to entertain those thoughts. After all that he’s studied, Stiles knew how important was that connection between a wolf and someone else.

More than anything, he knew how rare was that to happen. The answers were all in front of him, of course, but Stiles never wanted to pay attention to them. But then, Derek was the same. At times it felt like the both of them were afraid of what could happen if they decided to say in words how they felt, like they didn’t want to lose this. At least that’s what Stiles hoped.

He made all the drive without turning the radio on. As he neared the border Stiles could sense some mild disturbance in the wards, but maybe it was just because they were older and weaker. But if there was a problem, he’d find out anyway. 

It wasn’t something major enough to warrant a call to the rest of the pack, and Derek would be right on his heels anyway. 

And Stiles knew how to defend himself.

When he parked the Jeep at the end of the road, Stiles calmly got his leather bags, hoisted them up his shoulder, one in each side, and then took a deep breath of the forest air. His magic sensed something at the edge of the reach of his wards, but it was something small, like it wasn’t even supernatural.

Stiles hoped his senses weren’t pinging for a damn family of bunnies.

He looked up to the sky to find where the sun still was, to get a general sense of the direction he should go to, and then started to walk, slowly. He expected Derek to reach him in some minutes, so Stiles was more aware of everything while he was alone.

The wood coverage was very thick and didn’t let much light for the undergrowth to thrive. Stiles kept an eye out for any plants that he’d find there, even though he and Derek scoured these woods more than once. 

Just like he and Derek set up all the wards around Beacon Hills, and how they renovated the place where the ‘Blue Magic’ was now, and how they even decided together what to plant in the orchard behind the Hale house. 

There was a lot of things they did together, almost like they were something more than just...

Stiles heard a twig snapping. 

It was a bit far from him because even honing his senses with magic he didn’t hear more than that. What he could hear was Derek coming his way on four legs, running. If the backup was almost here, Stiles could adventure himself a bit more. He changed course and went the way he heard the noise.

The closer he got, the more his senses started to buzz. It wasn’t because of danger, although, almost all discoveries of the supernatural involved some danger, this time it felt like something ordinary, and Stiles wasn’t sure exactly why he knew.

He gave some more steps, and then he heard something stepping on leaves. He stopped moving, but the creature close to him didn’t. It moved towards him, but still hiding behind the trees.

Until Stiles saw it coming from behind an old pine. 

Then he heard the growling. And it wasn’t Derek’s.

“You’re a wolf,” Stiles stated because just looking at the creature was enough for him to know. The animal was smaller than Derek’s wolf. It had a black pelt, with some white close to the snout. His teeth looked sharp as he preyed close to Stiles, but it didn’t get too close.

For all he knew, there were no wolves in California, at least none outside of sanctuaries, so this encounter was something special.

Stiles stepped close to the wolf. It growled louder once, showing teeth as if it wanted to advance on Stiles, but it didn’t move from where it was.

“You’re protecting something, right?” Stiles talked to it, but mostly to himself, because he knew this wasn’t a werewolf.

He tried to get close to the animal because Stiles sensed that it wasn’t completely wild and wanting to attack. He tried to control his outward reactions to calm the wolf, but his heart was beating like crazy inside. 

The closer he stepped towards the animal, the more it growled, but still, it didn’t move from where it was. 

“You can calm down, little wolfy. Stiles just wants to get closer to you.” 

Stiles wanted to get near it so he could calm the wolf with some magic, and then try to see if he was a real wolf, or just a curse or something. But for that to happen he had to touch the wolf.

And he would have done that if it wasn’t from the crash he heard from behind, followed by the sound of roots being ripped off the ground just as a large black wolf jumped over Stiles to stay in front of him. It was Derek.

Stiles barely had time to do something to protect the poor wolf before Derek came barreling in, hair rising in his back and teeth out, almost crazed in the way he looked when he turned to assess Stiles and see if nothing happened. Stiles tried to move to put himself between Derek and the wolf.

“It’s just an animal, Derek,” Stiles tried to calm him down. But then the wolf behind him, probably out fear than anything else, pounced on Stiles’ back and bit his shoulder. 

Derek roared louder than Stiles had ever heard. The wolf released Stiles and scurried behind a tree. The burn and pain from the bite made hard for Stiles concentrate on the fight that broke out a second later. 

He didn’t want to look at the side because he still wasn’t that much used to blood, but Stiles could feel it trickling down.

“What a mess,” Stiles muttered to himself. He could hear the fight, the wolf doing its best to defend itself against Derek as they rolled around on the forest ground, but there was no way it’d be able to hold it for long, because Derek was much bigger than the animal, and at that moment Derek looked vicious.

Stiles tried to rise from the ground, and his magic just wasn’t answering his call well at the moment. If he tried a healing spell, Stiles wouldn’t be able to do something else because with the way he was hurt it’d probably take all his energy to heal. Instead, Stiles put a hand on the bite to slow down the bleeding process, wincing when he found the torn skin. 

He inhaled deep. And yelled.

“Derek, stop! Enough,” he did it once, but Derek barely heard him. Stiles could see that the wolf was close to giving up, but Derek still was at it. “Derek,” Stiles said the name again, but Derek still didn’t stop.

Then Stiles closed his eyes. He tried to picture Derek in his wolf form, tried to see him from all angles, and then he mumbled some words in old Celtic that he’d learned in the past, trying to find a way to control Derek or at least some parts of him.

Stiles mumbled the words with the most of his strength until he’d heard a whine. He opened his eyes to see Derek’s forepaws on the ground like they were bounded to the soil, and the big black wolf just looking at Stiles like he’d done something wrong.

The other wolf was mangled, hurt and bloody on the side. It had to sit down because it was tired.

“Is it enough?” Stiles asked, eyeing Derek. Like the fog had lifted from his eyes, Derek glanced from the wolf to Stiles, his eyes contrite. Even as an animal the man couldn’t hide all his emotions. 

“I can’t hold you much longer, so you need to stop,” advised Stiles. Derek nodded his head.

When Stiles ceased his control on Derek, a rush of adrenaline went up to his head. Stiles took the hand from his shoulder so he could balance himself upright, but when he saw all the blood dripping from his fingers, and it suddenly was hard to breathe.

Maybe too hard, because his eyes blacked out and Stiles went down hard.

-

The bed under him was comfortable but didn’t smell like his. Stiles opened his eyes slowly to gaze at a dark wooden ceiling, and his heart started. He was in the Hale house. In Derek’s bed, because he’d been there before, only not in the way he’d like to be. That rush of information made his senses start to get overwhelmed, so Stiles exercised his breathing to calm down.

He tried to move on the bed just a bit and felt his shoulder pulling hard. 

“Fuck,” he admonished and didn’t move an inch more.

The door to the room opened. A harried-looking Derek stared at him like he’d done something wrong to Stiles.

“You up?” Asked Derek.

“Yeah.” Stiles didn’t try to nod. When Derek didn’t say a thing for a moment, Stiles started to remember what happened for him to get like this. “Is the wolf alive?” 

Derek seemed surprised with the question, but then he confirmed with his head. “Deaton’s taking care of her. And the pups.”

“Pups?” Stiles wasn’t sure if his heart was hurting because Derek almost killed a wolf, or because it was alright and its family too.

“After, hum-” Derek looked down at his feet for a moment, but then breathed deep before continuing, “after you blacked out I carried you to the car, but just couldn’t leave the wolf there to die. When I went back the puppies had come to see their mom. Three of them. I searched around to see if there was someone else, but it was only those four wolves. I took them all to Deaton.”

Knowing that they were fine was enough to put Stiles at ease. He managed to inhale deep and then relax some, only to feel his shoulder throbbing with pain.

Without saying a thing Derek walked to the bed and sat down, reaching for Stiles’ hand. It was awkward for a moment being so close together, but as soon as he started draining the pain, Stiles relaxed completely. He curled his body towards Derek, who smelled like calm and happiness. And home.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” Derek’s voice was almost too low to hear. “That was completely out of line, and I didn't care for the safety of those wolves.” Derek couldn’t look at Stiles as he said it.

Stiles didn’t have it in him to scold Derek now, after all, he was absolutely tired. It was good that the wolves were okay and that Derek managed to help them, but Stiles didn’t want to see the man doing something like that ever again. He had to say it.

“Why did you fight it?” Stiles asked, leaning close to Derek, who put an arm around his shoulders but was careful not to press his body against Stiles.

Derek sighed.

“I just heard your heart, and it was beating too fast. As soon as I got to where you were the smell of magic was strong, and I couldn’t really sense what was happening, so I just attacked.”

At that moment Stiles almost felt guilty because he was the one broadcasting his magic all around, and he knew that Derek sometimes lost his scent in the middle of it. It was something that could have happened in some other dangerous fight, though. Stiles was glad it didn’t.

“Maybe I should stop blocking my scent around you,” Stiles said.

“You know you don’t ever need to do that, right?” 

Stiles didn’t know what to say at first, but he figured that they were right there for a reason.

“I just don’t want to pressure you into anything,” reasoned Stiles. He tried to turn his head just a bit so he could see Derek. 

“You’d never do that.” The man had his eyes on him, and he released Stiles’ hand, making the pain come back for a second before he reached to Stiles’ cheek, draining the pain again as he held him by the chin. 

Hard as it was to tell the truth while looking deep into Derek’s eyes, Stiles had to do it.

“But sometimes I have-” Stiles paused a moment, “sometimes I have these feelings for you, Derek. I don’t know exactly how you feel about me, and I don’t know how this changes things for us, but if I’m going to stop blocking my scent, you’re going to notice that.”

Derek only kept looking at him, but his lips curled up a smidge.

“It’s not just about your scent, Stiles. You know that.” And he was right, Stiles knew.

“But you never said anything.”

“Neither did you.”

And there was that.

Stiles closed his eyes and turned his head to the side so he could rub his cheek on Derek’s hand, although it wasn’t that effective because his upper body all hurt. He sighed.

“Does anyone else knows that I’m here?”

Derek nodded. “They all know, but decided to give us a moment.”

Stiles looked at Derek with a raised eyebrow.

“Your father was the one that suggested it.”

At that Stiles snorted, but the movement pulled at his wound, and he winced. Derek was quick to drain more of his pain.

Derek stared at him with worry in his face, and something more. The same feelings he always had in him, the feelings Stiles could always see but wasn’t ready to admit. Maybe it was because there was so much at stake, but now that the truth was out, it wouldn’t make sense to hide anything. 

He lifted one hand to grab the one that was touching him in the face. Derek interlaced their fingers but still said nothing. It almost felt like he didn’t know how to act, and maybe Stiles had to be the one to get things moving.

“Can you drain pain with your lips too?” Stiles asked, liking the way Derek smiled at him.

“I don’t know.” The man shook his head.

“Good, then. You can find out now if you want,” Stiles told him, almost taunting Derek as he licked his lips.

“Now?” Derek leaned down, getting close enough to Stiles for their breaths to mingle.

“Now.” Stiles nodded.

For a moment nothing happened, but then Derek closed the distance.

It took some time for Stiles to realize that Derek could, in fact, drain pain with his lips. For a moment his head was filled with other things.

-

The Blue Magic still opens all days, but Stiles has started to share a new address with the clients. Derek built some shelves for the new store, but there was still more to come. He also just finished the wooden chalet in the Preserve for Stiles to put his new store, still far from their house enough for some privacy. At least Stiles wouldn’t need to pay rent anymore.

The little wolf pack was still growing, and they found a home in the woods behind the Hale house, now warded with even more powerful magic to protect them.

Stiles and Derek found out that there were ways to drain the pain with other parts of the body besides the hands and the lips, and Stiles loved that very much.

But not more than he loved Derek.

  
  
  
  



End file.
